


Island Time

by gardnerhill



Series: A Study In Crimson [15]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Community: watsons_woes, Gen, Islands, Pirates, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 22:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15422736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill
Summary: For many reasons, pirates loved the island of Tobago.





	Island Time

"This ain't the first time Cap'n's ducked in here."

Murray and I looked up from our grilled shark and hardtack at the words from the ship's cook. Hector, the carpenter's mate, smiled. Jun the cook's-mate glowered at all of us, but kept eating with a speed that only a starveling lad of 10 could accomplish.

We were all seated on the forecastle deck of the _Baker_. It was two bells first dog-watch, an early supper and a night-time swim lesson to follow. All around us were the lush greens of the island where we'd berthed to refresh our supplies and crewmembers, resting securely in the jeweled turquoise-blue of the shallow cove and sheltered from the sea by a spit of land.

Angelo settled in to talk, now that he had the newcomers' attention.

"It was five or six years ago. In Trinidad, right over that way" with a vague hand-wave toward the horizon. "It was just us few – Gregs, Chan, Trevor, myself, having seen enough of Navy life or island life, looking for something else – and here comes this longshanks who'd been a Lieutenant or better before jumping his own ship or I'll eat me hat. From the very first he was our captain – he just had it, the thing where a man says an order and you'd break your neck to obey 'cos you can see what he's aiming at and it's the right thing to do. Not like some with half the Navy jewelry on their chest, who can scream and flog till St. Swithin's Day and they'll never command anything but a shipful of half-drunk mules.

"He treated the whole thing like a school-prank. Maybe that's why it worked, 'cos smarter, older jack-tars wouldn't a even tried it. He sees this pretty little _barca-longa_ in the harbor name of _Montagu_ that some Portuguese had brought in. Just a watch aboard, while the other sailors was at the whorehouses and such, a watch we could take easy. 'No,' says our new Captain when we finger our knives, 'not that way, and not now.'

"So we done what he said. We waited till six bells middle watch – deepest, darkest, bluest part of the night, just when a good wind was blowing out of the harbour. And we five didn't make a sound – swam out to the ship, climbed aboard, and threw the watch overboard. Very next thing Cap'n does is drop the captain's gig so the men in the water can splash over to get in and row to shore – any other bastard would a left 'em to drown, and too many would a shot them while they yelled for help, laughing all the while. Up anchor, up sails, and we were gone without spilling a drop of blood. We laughed for an hour like kids. That's when I knew this posh longshanks wasn't no regular _bucanero_."

I was so enthralled to hear a story about Shear-Lock's past that all my attention was on Angelo; I let my plate sit unheeded on my lap.

Angelo continued. "Come daybreak we see sails behind us, and spyglass says it's a Spanish ship, the _Sancta Teresa_. Our Portuguese had gotten some friends to help them. We were for the cutlass or the rope if they caught us, and they were faster.

"Fortunately we were headed to the nearest port of call."

"Here," Jun grunted, his cheeks bulging. Unlike me, he had not stopped eating during the tale.

Angelo smiled instead of cuffing the lad for interrupting. "Trinidad-Tobago, they call this place. Two islands close as man and wife, not even a day's sailing between – and here was little Tobago with a thousand coves as hidden as a woman's own port of call, if you follow me.

"Before noon we were tucked into one of the inlets like a flea on a dog's back, and they could hunt for us all they liked, for it wouldn't do 'em any good." Angelo laughed. "And if they landed in port to demand the governor provide assistance to hunt for us?"

Murray and I laughed with the others. There were so many reasons Tobago was beloved of the Brethren, and not just merely for its friendly geography.

"Aye," Angelo concluded. "How many times has this island changed hands? Was the governor Dutch, French, Swedish, English, or Spanish this year? Would he be a Spaniard to give assistance, or would he be English or French and fire on them himself?

"They knew we were lost to them, so they sailed back to Trinidad to retrieve the rest of the crew. And before they were lost to the horizon we'd painted the new name _Baker_ on this old girl. Two days after that we'd four more crewmembers Cap'n had gang-pressed, and we set sail under his command."

So it was not riches that drove Captain Shear-Lock, or he'd stay right here and pick at the laden ships with all the other pirates like blood-drinking midges on a fat cow. Something else had driven him to sea from those early days – perhaps the same siren-song that had taken a second son with no inheritance prospects to the surgeon's college and then the Navy. Perhaps someday I would know.

In the meantime, this tiny island with a thousand secrets and no law that any of us need fear served as safe harbor until we had reprovisioned, the captain had collected more crewmen – and Murray and I had finally learned to swim.

Ravenous, I eagerly returned my attention to my plate, and stared for a moment at a bare lump of hardtack. I knew I hadn't finished my shark-meat–

I whipped my head around to see the grinning Jun make a rude gesture at me as he stuffed the rest of my steak into his mouth. Why that little–

I burst out laughing, and the other men did too at how I'd let myself be robbed right under my nose. This child would out-plunder Bartholomew Roberts before he was a man.

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2018 July Watson's Woes Promptfest prompt #24, **Tales of the City.** Let the history or geography of a place play a significant role in today’s work. Bonus point if the place is not Holmes and Watson’s home city.


End file.
